Therapist Chronicles
by Shinyfox
Summary: What happens when Prussia gets bored? Well he decides to trick various Nations into going to a therapist. First on the chopping block: UsCan who then force FrUk into going. Everything goes downhill from there. T for mild language. Any and all pairings.
1. Prologue, The Set Up

Co-Written with SquishingBananas! Without her this whole idea would not have been created. The crack is equally spread between the two of us.  
We own nothing except Teresa!

**Continued Summary:**  
This story will contain many different pairings. The following pairings have a chance of popping up: UsUk, Fruk, Frucan, FACE, GerIta, Spamano, AusHun and PruHun.  
Future chapters may also include sessions with: Russia/Baltics, Belarus/Russia, Germany/Prussia, Poland, North Italy/South Italy, Sealand/England, Prussia, China/Japan, Turkey/Greece and Russia/America.  
We don't ship all of these pairings but we think it'd be pretty interesting to get them in a therapists office to talk, don't you? So we'll do our best to include chapters with these characters.

* * *

Prussia was quite proud of himself as he sat in the parking lot of the therapists' office, car seat reclined just enough to let him hang his booted feet out the window and still let him have a great view of the front door. He wouldn't pass this up for anything, seeing America and Canada duke it out at a therapists'? Who wouldn't want to see that? Gilbird perched upon his head, silent for now. "This is going to be awesome. This plan is the best one I've come up with. Heh." Prussia crossed his arms behind his head and eyed the entrance to the lot. He had lured America here with the promise of a hero conference and free hamburgers and Canada? He had told the quiet Canadian that his brother had been dissing his hockey teams and maple syrup. Easy as Pie.

A small red car pulled in and parked, Canada lurched out of it looking annoyed and frustrated. He slammed the door and looked around. Soon after another car pulled in, rolling around the corner far too fast and lurching into an empty spot near the red car. America jumped out of the dark blue truck with a hoot of laughter. "Hey! Bro! What's up? Are you here for the hero conference too? I hear they're giving out free hamburgers too, score right?"

Prussia leaned forward, pulling his feet into the car, the show was about to start. Canada's fist were clenched at his side, he stood in front of the door to the therapists office. America sauntered over with a wide smile. "What's wrong Mattie?"

"You've been dissing my teams again, eh?" His brother crossed his arms with a frown and America's grin slid off his face.

"What?" America rolled his eyes. "I haven't been dissing your teams." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Besides, you cheated in the Olympics. I would have won." He smirked and Canada's eyes narrowed.

"I won fair and square!" he snapped and America rolled his eyes again, shrugging. "My team is just better than yours, get over it Alfred, just drop it."

"Please, next time the Olympics come around you're toast Mattie." A feral grin appeared on his face as America leaned back on his heels with a laugh. The door to the office opened before Canada form a witty reply.

"Hello, are you two Matthew and Alfred?" Both men looked over at the woman who was eyeing them. She had long chestnut hair that was incredibly curly and small brown eyes that seemed to take in everything and analyze it.

"Err…" Alfred frowned and shrugged. "Yeah, I'm Alfred. Who the hell are you?"

"And I'm Matthew…" Canada added.

"I'm Teresa; you guys are arguing pretty loudly out here, I don't know if you noticed. And you're about ten minutes late for your appointment. Why don't you step inside." She stepped back a pace and opened the door wider, motioning them inside.

America hesitated only a moment, sharing a confused glance with Canada. "Appointment?" he asked and she waved him in.

"Come on inside, you must be confused. He must not have told you everything." She turned with a sigh, leaving the door open.

"Who what now?" America asked intelligently. Canada and America shared a shrug and hesitantly followed her inside, wondering what the hell this was all about.

Prussia snorted gleefully from the car. "Oh well, I guess I didn't get to see as much as I wanted." He sighed. "What I wouldn't give to be inside there right now." He smirked and patted Gilbird, who chirped at him. "Yeah! Yeah, you're right. Good point my friend. I almost forgot those!" He dived into a backpack that was on the passenger seat and pulled out a laptop. He turned it on and accessed the cameras that he had set up in the therapists' office earlier that week.

* * *

I don't know how often the updates will happen since we don't often have time to sit together and work on stuff.

As for my other works, specifically "Of Drabbles and One Shots", I'll be updating slowly from now on. This new story has come up *points above* and I haven't had any good idea's for one shots lately. Please forgive me! I hope that you will all enjoy this story as much as my One Shots and will give it a chance.  
Squishingbananas and I will keep the characters in character as much as possible, expect some fluff, drama, pranks and lots of humor.


	2. Chapter 1, America and Canada

Oh my! Bananas and I are thrilled to see the response that this story has received! Thank you to all who reviewed and everyone else who showed an interest! It's what got this chapter out so quickly!

We would like to make it known that neither of us are therapists so we don't exactly know how a therapy session is run. Forgive us for any oddities during America and Canadas' session here. I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Teresa led America and Canada into her office, closing the door behind her and frowning at the brothers. An awkward silence hung over the group for a minute, before Canada cleared his throat.

"Excuse me," he began softly, "But what exactly-"

"What the fuck are we doing here?" America interrupted him.

"You honestly don't know?" Teresa's curls bounced as she tilted her head. "Your Uncle, Gilbert, called and scheduled your appointment. He said you two needed to talk about your childhood."

"What?" America's face was baffled and Canada's eyebrows had disappeared somewhere under his hairline.

"Look, Miss, I'm not sure what…um… 'Uncle Gilbert' is trying to pull, but we really don't need to see a therapist, eh? So, I hope you have a good day." Canada frowned faintly at Teresa, moving towards the door. America followed after him, attempting to make a quick getaway.

Teresa surveyed the two critically, there was something going on between them, she could feel it. "Wait," she stepped between the twins and the door, frowning. America fixed Teresa with an annoyed look, but Teresa stood her ground. "I think you should stay and at least talk. Just for one session. Your uncle sounded genuinely concerned on the phone, I think this could be a positive experience for you both."

"Genuinely concerned, my ass. The bastard promised me a hamburger." America growled, slumping into one of the chairs in front of the desk. It seemed that she wasn't going to let them leave anytime soon, stubborn woman.

"Please refrain from using such vulgar terms Mr. Jones," Teresa instructed him. She glanced over in Canada's direction. He was staring at her silently, weighing his options. After a moment he sighed softly and sat in the other chair. Teresa gave an approving nod before taking her own seat. Another awkward silence fell upon the group and America rolled his eyes, "Well, I can see how this is going to be beneficial to us." The sarcasm was evident in his tone.

Canada glanced over at his brother and then back to Teresa. "Well…what do you want us to say?"

"That's for you to tell me. I'm here to listen." Teresa smiled encouragingly, giving America only a quick look.

Matthew and Alfred exchanged a loaded look; they were supposed to tell her their secrets? Right, they were just going to come right out and say that they were the immortal representatives of the nations of Canada and America.

"Well, Alfred, Matthew, why don't you start by telling me about your relationship with each other?" Teresa prompted, pen poised over her notepad.

America grinned at his brother, who frowned in response. "Alfred, don't tell her-"

"Well, personally I think poor ol' Mattie's a bit of a volcano. He's quiet, ya almost forget he's there until you make some comment about what a shitty sport hockey is, or mention that his latest batch of Maple syrup tastes like it came from England and he blows up in your face. It's like Krakatoa or something." America smirked a bit, propping his feet up on Teresa's desk. He could get into this whole therapy thing.

Canada glowered at his brother; Alfred was finding too much joy in this. He pushed America's feet off the desk roughly, turning away from his brother. "I don't know what you're going on about. I'll have you know my maple syrup is fantastic, and Hockey is a great sport, eh? So you can just shove it u…"

"Matthew." The therapist interrupted what sounded like the beginning of a tirade, catching both twins off guard. She turned back to America with a frown, "Don't antagonize your brother."

"Antago-what?" America blinked at her.

Teresa sighed, "Don't try to make him mad, alright?"

"I don't TRY to make people mad, it just happens!" America scowled at his brother, as if somehow this was his fault.

Canada smiled at Teresa, "Yeah, pissing people off is a gift of his."

"Really? And how often does this happen to you, Alfred? This, inadvertently ticking people off?"

"Ah-" America started to talk, but closed his mouth, picking at a thread on his coat, "This is bogus, let's go get a burger Mattie. Hell I'd even go for some pancakes at this point."

"It probably started with the Revolu-when he moved out. " Canada offered helpfully, glancing over at his brother out of the corner of his eye.

"Matt…" America hissed under his breath, shooting his brother a warning look, which Canada ignored.

"I take it moving out was a traumatic experience for you?" Teresa asked, scrawling something on her pad.

"What gave you that idea?" America scowled, looking genuinely ticked for the first time upon entering the office.

"Well, your brother almost referred to it as the Revolution. That indicates it was a pretty big deal."

The brother's exchanged another smirk, "You could say that." America snorted, but didn't offer any more information.

"It was crazy. Al and Eng-I mean, Arthur…our Dad, you could say, were pretty ticked at each other. Arthur wanted to charge Alfred… err… rent, I guess?" He shot a glance at his brother, who just shook his head, but didn't correct him, keeping his gaze on his sneakers. "Anyways, Papa, that's Francis, sided with Al after a while, and things got kind of nasty. I locked myself in my room and waited for things to blow over."

"Ah, I see. And did you live with your…um… parents for long after your brother moved out?" Teresa asked, pausing her frantic writing.

"For a bit, I guess. I didn't want to make as big a deal as Al did, so I snuck out the back while they were arguing with… other family members."

"It sounds like you and your family do a lot of arguing." Teresa observed.

"You could say that," America grinned, looking a lot more comfortable now that Teresa was focused on other people's problems.

"I see. And how has this family dynamic affected your relationship?"

Canada tensed at that question, but America still looked confused, "Say what?" He gave her a blank stare.

"Do you two fight?" Teresa rephrased, making a note in the margin of her paper to use small words.

"Oh…uh…o-only once." America stammered, "A-and it wasn't really a fight with Mattie exactly. I was arguing with Arthur again and Matt," He jerked a thumb at Canada and frowned at the memory, "Sided with him."

"Of course I sided with him, you tried to invade-er…move in with me," Canada frowned.

"Well you burned the White…my shit!" America glared at his brother.

"Because you burned mine first! And anyways, I won in the end," Canada finished smugly.

"You did not…" America countered, but Teresa cleared her throat, silencing the brothers.

"That sounds like it's still a big deal for you two, did it happen recently?" She seemed a bit worried at the mention of 'burning shit'. It seemed like these two had a lot of anger issues if they thought that the answer to their problems was to burn things down.

"Not exactly." Both brothers laughed at that, tension forgotten. "Besides," Canada added, "We've forgiven each other."

"You mean I've forgiven you."

"Oh, whatever, Alfred."

"So I've heard a lot of mentions of Arthur, your Dad? Is there a lot of tension between you and him, Alfred?" Teresa asked.

"Sexual tension," Canada muttered under his breath; Teresa didn't seem to hear, but the comment earned him an elbow to the ribs from his brother.

"Not usually. We get along better these days." America offered grudgingly.

"Well, I think we should talk about your parents. They seem to be a root problem in your lives," Teresa prompted.

America and Canada grinned simultaneously, "Would you like to go first, brother dear?" America asked voice full of false politeness.

"Oh I couldn't! You know Arthur _much _better than I do," Canada chuckled darkly.

"Oh, we've done nothing BUT talk about Arthur and I." Alfred paused and a slow smile appeared. He turned to Canada with a glint in his eyes "Why don't we discuss you and Francis for a bit?" The American smirked at the Canadian, waggling his eyebrows in a crude manner

"Let's leave Papa out of this, eh?" Canada growled threateningly, looking a bit frightened at the prospect of actually having to talk about his father figure.

"Actually, I think it would be interesting to discuss this… Francis. You boys have two fathers?" Teresa asked, turning to Matthew.

Canada mouthed something incredibly rude at his brother, but turned to Teresa with a flat smile. "There's not much to say. I spent a lot more time with Papa as a child, and more with Arthur as a teenager. Francis cooks loads better than Arthur." Canada shrugged.

Teresa could tell that there was more that the young man was not saying; the bland expression on his face hid his emotions poorly. She made a mental note to come back to that in their next session.

America snorted, "Yeah, I have to agree, given the choice I'd eat over at Mattie's or Francis' house any day. Arthur can't boil water without something going wrong."

"It would be fascinating to meet your parents." Teresa smiled at the both of them, deciding to ignore Alfred's rude comment about his father.

America burst into laughter at that, and Canada's own amusement was barely concealed behind his hand. "Please talk to them," Canada practically begged, "It would be _so_ beneficial for their relationship." Canada lost it then, joining his brother in laughter. The two of them collapsed on each other in a fit of giggles.

"Ah well, let's make an appointment for them then." Teresa suggested, staring curiously at the twins. The more she heard about this little family the more she thought that their Uncle was doing them a great favor.

"Let's." America choked. "Can we watch?" He asked, snorting.

"This is the sort of thing best done in private, I think," Teresa frowned at him.

"Right, well, keep an eye on Francis then," America suggested, winking at the therapist.

"No, seriously," Canada said, seeing Teresa's skeptical look. "Watch him carefully, and don't let him get you alone."

* * *

For those of you who didn't catch it we touched upon the Revolutionary War and also the War of 1812. =)

Again, a big thanks to those who showed interest! France and England are next!

And to those of you who are curious this story will hold many different pairings. The following pairings have a chance of popping up: UsUk, Fruk, Frucan, FACE, GerIta, Spamano, AusHun and PruHun.  
Future chapters may also include sessions with: Russia/Baltics, Belarus/Russia, Germany/Prussia, Poland, North Italy/South Italy , Sealand/England, Prussia, China/Japan, Turkey/Greece and Russia/America.

We don't ship all of these pairings but we think it'd be pretty interesting to get them in a therapists office to talk, don't you? So we'll do our best to include chapters with these characters.


	3. Chapter 2, France and England

Ok I wanted to give you guys a WARNING:  
This chapter contains France/Joan and France/England.

We originally wanted to write a happy chapter but when we really got into it, out popped the France/Joan(or Jeanne) pairing. So um... this chapter will be lighthearted in the beginning but end on a rather depressing note. Also we're no therapists', forgive us if something seems off or is not right, we're just going on what limited knowledge we have and we're trying to have fun with it. ^^

I also wish to inform our readers that the next chapters will be extremely slow to update. We're hoping to pop one out before November comes around. When November hits, however, both of us will be super busy with NaNoWriMo and the next update probably won't happen until Mid-December.

* * *

England pulled into the parking lot and sat in the car for a moment, organizing his thoughts before getting out and heading for the front door. "Someone he wants me to meet?" He muttered under his breath. "If he's yanking my leg I'm going to strangle him." England paused at the door eying it, deciding whether it was worth his time or not to go inside. He looked around and his eyes were drawn to a small sign. A therapist's office? That little git. America had sent him to a therapist's office! That was it then; He was going to strangle the boy. He scowled darkly and turned on his heels, no way was he going in there.

France swung into the parking lot in a red Prius, parking next to England's car. He hopped out with a wide smile, which only caused England's scowl to darken. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Arthur shouted across the lot.

France sauntered up with a laugh. "Mathieu said that there was someone he wanted me to meet and gave me this address." The tall blond stopped uncomfortably close to England and smiled brightly. "And you? Fancy seeing you in the same place at the same time." England stepped out of arms reach.

"They set us up! Canada and America set us up!" The Englishman exploded angrily. "Don't waste your time; it's a therapist's office. They sent us to a bloody shrink." He paused and snorted. "Actually, on second thought, why don't you go in? You could use a session or two."

France sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. "Do you really think so little of me, mon cheri? If anyone here needs therapy it's you, Angleterre." He moved closer and draped an arm over England's shoulders, leaning on him. England tensed at the touch and France brushed his lips across the shell of Arthur's ear. "So many anger issues, so much tension bottled up inside. I could always help you relieve that tension you know…"

"Bloody frog!" England lashed out, shoving the Frenchman away with a snort. "I don't need your help. I don't need you making sexual advances at me." He snapped, giving France a shot to the shoulder, making the man take a step back.

"You'll come around eventually," France winked.

"Excuse me." A small sigh came from the door and a curly haired young woman stepped out, arms crossed. "Are you Arthur and Francis?" She asked, eying them. "Does your entire family yell all the time? This is exactly how I found Matthew and Alfred; fighting, loudly, right outside the door. Please, come in and let's start your appointment, at least you two weren't late, unlike your kids." She waved them inside.

England snorted. "No thank you, miss." He straightened and nodded stiffly at her. "I really don't need to see a therapist. This was just a very bad joke that Alfred and Matthew tried to play on us."

A lifted eyebrow in his direction and France chuckled. "Oh Angleterre." He pulled England into a one armed embrace, ignoring the struggling that ensued. "I think you could use a session with this beautiful, charming young woman." He winked at Teresa who stared at him with a bland expression, hiding her amusement.

"You! You! Let me go this instant! Right now!" England aimed an elbow at France who leaned back and out of the way, effectively dodging it.

"No, I think not! All those anger issues, lashing out. Tsk tsk." He dragged the yelling Englishman forward and through the door. Teresa watched with a worried expression.

"Really now. I don't think you should force him into anything," She spoke, lifting a hand to stop France. But Francis only smiled charmingly at her.

"Oh no. He wants to talk; he just doesn't know that he wants to yet." He assured her, over the shouts. France guided England into the small room and sat him down forcefully. England sprang up from the chair and shook his fist at the Frenchman, who smiled and leaned in close, causing England to take a step back and fall into the chair behind him. "Angleterre." France purred. "Surely you wouldn't act so rude in front of such a nice young woman. Such rough language and rash movements, you could have hurt or offended someone." His face was inches away from England's as he spoke "But, lucky for me, I don't wound easily."

Arthur snorted, crossing his arms and looking away with a scowl, a slight flush appearing. "What are you playing at France?"

France leaned back on his heels. "I'm not playing at anything, _Arthur_." He stressed the name as he turned to give Teresa the brightest smile he could manage, winking at her.

Teresa sat behind her desk and eyed the two men. "Why don't you stay for just a little while Arthur?" She asked, fixing him with brown eyes. England glanced over at her and sighed, shifting slightly in the chair.

France plopped down in the chair beside him with a smile. "That's it, just relax a bit." He winked at Teresa again, who glanced over and offered a small smile in return.

"I talked to your kids just last week about some of their childhood problems. I recommended that I speak to you and they agreed. Now then, I'm Teresa. I assume you are Francis and Arthur?" She asked, fixing each of them with a stare.

"Yes, I am Francis, and this angry gentleman beside me is Arthur."

Teresa frowned slightly as Arthur turned and started to argue with Francis. She could see where their kids got it. "I will have to ask you not to antagonize Arthur, okay Francis?"

Arthur gave her a grateful glance and France chuckled. "Now where is the fun in that?" He asked with a pouty look, which Teresa ignored.

"So, you two, let's get right down to business." She picked up a pad of paper and pen, jotting down a note before looking up. "How often do you two have intercourse?" She asked.

England spluttered, staring at her. "What? We… How often?" He gaped at such a forward question and Teresa nodded.

"The root of many relationship problems can be found in how often intercourse is held between a couple."

"Oh, how often? I don't even know the last time I had sex with my dear Arthur here." An arm was draped over the stiff Englishman. "It would probably be more often, except that I'm out of the house most nights," He winked. "If you catch my drift."

Lips were pursed as Teresa frowned. "I think I might." She spoke, making a note on her paper. "So, Francis. You stay out most nights?" She directed her attention to the long haired blond as England shoved Francis' arm off of his shoulders and elbowed him angrily. "Please refrain from getting physical Arthur."

"Oh?" Francis pouted at that. "You are such a fun sucker ma chérie." He waved a hand dramatically at Teresa, who glanced in his direction.

"And you are such a slut!" England exploded at France, glaring at the man seated beside him. Teresa sat back as they began to argue, it seemed like they were actually talking about things that were important, emotions were spewing forth and she wasn't about to interrupt the flow.

"But life is short Angleterre!" France draped a hand over his forehead with a sigh. "It is oh so short! Besides," He lifted the hand to peek at Arthur. "You shouldn't complain, you never ask for it!"

"I- Well I." Arthur spluttered, floundering for words. "I-I shouldn't have to ask!" He finally spat out.

France paused at that and tilted his head, staring at England with blue eyes. He seemed to be contemplating what the man beside him had said. "I think that if you had a more active sex li-" Before she could finish her sentence France had given her a wide smile and interrupted her.

"Is that what the couch is for?" France jerked a thumb off to the side at a small loveseat and wiggled his eyebrows at England.

"Oh please. His sex life doesn't need to be more active! Anymore active and he will blow a fuse." Arthur scoffed, waving a hand in dismissal. The two men exchanged a short glance before looking away. Arthur, Teresa noted, seemed uncomfortable while France seemed to be at ease, sitting in the chair with his legs crossed, a small smile on his face.

"So, Francis." She spoke to him. "From what I gather you do a lot of, er… roaming?" she asked and he winked at her again. He seemed to do a lot of winking, she noted.

"Yes, indeed I do. There are so many women and men out there to please!" England scowled, though said nothing, looking determinedly in the other direction, arms crossed over his chest.

"Doesn't your lack of celibacy have a negative effect on your relationship with Arthur?" Teresa asked, wondering how on earth these two had managed to stay together long enough to raise children. She was beginning to guess that being raised by these two hadn't been boring for Alfred and Mathew.

"Non, Angleterre has his own affairs," France nudged England, waggling his eyebrows, "Cradle robber that he is."

England's scowled, impressive eyebrows meeting together as he scoffed, "You're one to talk, sleeping with every sixteen year old girl who claims she's come to save the day."

Francis' face darkened for a moment, just a flicker before he smiled tightly. "Touché." He murmured softly, leaning back in his chair, all humor gone from his eyes.

"Wait, wait, wait." Teresa set her paper and pen on the desk and shook her head. "Please, explain. Cradle robbing? Sleeping with sixteen year olds?" Her brown eyes flickered between the two men, who now looked distinctly uncomfortable, replaying what they had each said in their minds.

Whoops.

"Err, when I say cradle robbing I mean," France started, holding a hand up to calm Teresa. "Not a young child. Cradle robber can also mean a very obvious age difference between the two engaged in sexual relations." He explained. "I only meant that this old man has had sexual relations with someone much younger than himself."

Brown eyes flickered to Arthurs' green ones and he frowned. "Well… Well." He spluttered and France looked at him, eyes hard. "I only meant. I mean, when I said sixteen year old." How was he to dig himself out of this? "I only meant that she _looked_ like a sixteen year old." He spoke softly, not meeting Frances' eyes, instead his gaze was set on the pen holder on Teresa's desk. "She only looked like a sixteen year old." He repeated. He realized now what a low blow he had delivered to France. A blow that was uncalled for and would probably lead the Frenchman to wander the streets for the next week or so and not return home. It would take Francis a few days to forgive the wound that he had just reopened.

"Yes, well." Francis said, looking away from Arthur. "She was a wonderful young woman. Strong and willful." He stared over Teresa's head, lost in memories. "So lovely and brave too! A girl that would have made…" he paused, blinking. "She had her entire life before her. She was so young; she could have changed the world." He fell silent then and England shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. The Englishman peered over at France, who seemed misty eyed, still lost in his thoughts.

A sore subject, obviously. Teresa picked up her pen and jotted down a note, looking between the two. It was obvious that Francis had cared dearly for this girl, whoever she was, and it was obvious that Arthur had been jealous, that embarrassed and uncomfortable look on his face said it all. "If you don't mind me asking. Who was she?" Teresa asked in a soft voice.

"Joan."

"Jeanne" Both men spoke at the same time, England's voice was gruff and France spoke her name on a soft whisper.

England shifted and cleared his throat. "Her name is pronounced differently, depending on where you come from." He offered.

"She was dear to you?" Teresa asked looking over at England and then back to France. England glanced over at France as well and gave Teresa a short nod, again shifting in his seat.

"Dear does not even begin to describe what she meant to me." A cold look in Arthurs direction and Teresa shifted uncomfortably in her own seat. That look had been full of raw emotion, anger and misery.

"She passed away? Recently?" Teresa pressed a bit. Arthur seemed unwilling to say more, instead he gnawed on his bottom lip and looked at his shoes, hands balled into fists.

"Oh no." A bitter laugh. "No, she died long ago. She was murdered actually. She burned in…" he paused to clear his throat. "In… a house fire." He weakly added.

"I'm sorry Francis." If she had been closer she would have reached out to touch the man on the shoulder. Instead she turned to England. "Arthur did you know her?" He nodded mutely. A silence fell over them until Teresa prodded him again. "Where you three close friends?"

"Angleterre? Close friends with Jeanne? Non." A snort of derisive laughter from Francis.

"No, I wasn't… close to her." He affirmed, inching away from the Frenchman.

Teresa straightened a bit then a soft sigh escaped. "Arthur, were you jealous of Jeanne?" She asked the question softly and noted that Francis flicked his eyes in Arthur's direction, listening intently.

"I…" Arthur began and paused to clear his throat. He loosened his tie a bit. "I…" He faltered again, throwing an anxious look over at Francis.

"Why not tell her? I already know the answer, even if you never came right out and spoke the words. Go on, tell her _mon cheri_." The term of endearment that England was so used to hearing came out in icy tones that sent a chill straight to the Englishman's heart.

Teresa glanced over at Francis, if she had to guess she would have said Arthur had killed this Jeanne with his own hands. The look of utter betrayal that Francis was sending in Arthur's direction made her shudder. But of course, Arthur could not have killed Jeanne. If he had, he would be in jail, she reminded herself. And besides, who would stay with their beloved's killer? She shook her head slightly to clear it. "Arthur?" She asked and he flushed a deep red.

"Yes." His voice was hoarse and England faltered. "Yes, I was jealous of Joan." The words seemed to tear the Englishman apart. "I… I drove a wedge between them, if you will, and I'm afraid Francis has never quite forgiven me. I've never quite forgiven myself either though. For what I did."

"Francis," She spoke, gaining the man's attention. His blue eyes seemed confused and distressed. "You never forgave Arthur?" She asked and France shook his head.

"I've learned to live with the hole that's left. I just wish things had ended differently, that I'd had one last goodbye." He cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. "I am afraid I must go Teresa. This has been an… eye opening experience but I'm afraid I have… prior appointments that I must attend to. I wish you well." He turned and before Teresa could object he was out the door, head down and walking fast, a sad sight to see. She turned to England then only to find him standing up stiffly.

"I," He glanced out the door. "I should leave as well." He turned to leave and Teresa stood up.

"I think we made good progress today." Though she didn't quite understand what had happened between Jeanne, Arthur and Francis it was obvious that the subject was still a raw one, even if it had happened long ago. "I think, we should make another appointment so that we can talk again."

England gave her a stiff smile. "I will call and arrange one then." Anything to get her to shut up and let him leave. He gave her a stiff bow and made his way out the door, leaving Teresa to sit back down and ponder their session.

* * *

Now that you guys have suffered through it here is our thoughts on the France/Joan and the FrUk pairings.

See France stays with England because although he loved Jeanne dearly England was his first love... And although he loathes what England did he can't bring himself to hate the man forever. Because he doesn't want to lose the only other person that he feels truly loves him like Jeanne did. But he can't bring himself to be tied down to his beloved's killer forever and always so he wanders attempting to find another who would love him as Jeanne did.

We're not quite sure how we're going to wrap this up, we obviously left it open for another chapter but we want to move our readers on to more lighthearted chapters. Spamano is on the chopping block next! Sorry for any misused French in this chapter that was entirely my (Shiny-fox) fault. If it's spelled wrong or used in the wrong context please please tell me and I'll fix it. Also for those that didn't get it Joan/Jeanne is Joan of Arc. Look it up and learn some history *wink*

And again, when November starts we will both be busy until Mid-December (NaNoWriMo)!


	4. Chapter 3, Spain and Romano

*total hyperventilating* I am so sorry that this took forever to get to all of our lovely readers.

Alright so here it is, later than we planned but it's here right? RIGHT! It's Spamano on the chopping block in this chapter.  
As always please remember that neither of us are therapists so if anything seems off then forgive us. We're just trying to have fun with this!

* * *

Spain hopped out of his rental car, leaning against the polished red hood to wait for Romano. He glanced at the doorway to the therapist's office, still not entirely believing that he was going to go through with this. France and England had attempted to keep their experience at the therapist's office a secret so, of course, the entire world knew about it.

**Earlier That Week**

_"I can't believe you went to the therapist with England!" Spain slammed his beer down on the bar, grabbing the edge of the counter to prevent himself from toppling off the stool. _

_"Shit man, I know! Who would've thought you two were messed up enough to try marriage counseling?" Prussia snickered, pounding France on the back. _

_France sat between his two friends, slumped over a bottle of wine. They'd been jeering at the Frenchman for hours, but so far he had yet to make a pass at either of them, or a single sex joke. He bore the brunt of another few cracks from Prussia and Spain (mostly from Prussia though) before standing, shaking his head and running a hand over his chin, which looked to have more stubble than usual. "Very amusing, mes amis, as much fun as I'm having, I think I'll retreat."_

_"Don't you always?" Prussia cackled, thumping his fist on the table, amused by his own joke._

_Spain waited for a smart retort from France, something along the lines of 'well at least I'm still a country' but France just shook his head and gave his friends a torn look. Then France turned and grabbed Spain's ass in a half-hearted attempt at normalcy, staggering his way out of the bar. _

_"Maybe we shouldn't have teased him… so much" Spain slurred, shoving his drink away. "We might have actually gone too far." The thought seemed to trouble him._

_Prussia was still laughing, apparently unaffected by his friend's bad mood. "Too far? Mein gott, that was priceless!" He snorted and took another swig of his beer. "Can you imagine the two of them in a therapist's office? Seriously, I'll bet he was just putting it on about Jeanne to get a guilt trip out of England. After a few hundred years he can't still be after her!" _

_"Jeanne?" Spain knew he was wasted, but he didn't remember bringing Joan of Arc into the conversation at all, and he couldn't remember France ever having ever mentioned the young lady that night._

_Prussia shrugged, glancing down at his own beer, "Just an assumption, freund." He swirled his beer around, Spain thought Prussia looked nervous, but perhaps that was just the alcohol. "I mean," Prussia continued with a smirk, "What else would England and France have to talk about?" _

_Spain frowned at that, but didn't say anything. There was some important revelation behind all of this, but he couldn't put his finger on it. _

_"Dude, you should take Romano! It'd be priceless!"Prussia exclaimed after a moment of silence, turning to his drunken friend._

_Spain turned his head slightly to stare at Prussia. Take Romano to a therapist? Was the Prussian insane? That would get him killed for sure. Antonio knew Prussia had just been trying to change the topic of conversation, but he had to be out of his mind. Spain dragged his beer back to him and took another swig. He shrugged off Gilbert's idea, rolling his eyes. It wasn't until he was back in his hotel room that he truly thought about the suggestion. Prussia's idea really hadn't been all that bad. Antonio couldn't remember a single conversation with Romano where he hadn't gotten hit. If he took the stubborn man to the therapist then maybe he would finally be able to talk to Romano without being beat up._

**And back to the Present**_  
_

Spain was snapped out of his thoughts as Romano pulled in, driving a tiny little Smart Car. It was too late for regrets, Antonio realized. Romano reached over to push the door open, but Spain beat him to it, swinging the door open and stepping aside to allow Romano out. "Bastard! I'm not a girl; I can open my own car door."

Spain just grinned at the man, reaching out to smooth the wayward curl sticking out of Romano's hair. The other man shied away, cursing enough to do a pirate proud (and Spain ought to know). "Stop that! Where's this pasta convention you told me about? You have no idea how hard it was to convince Feli not to come."

"How _did_ you manage that, by the way?" Spain slung an arm around Romano's shoulder as they headed towards the door, but Romano didn't smack him away, for once.

"I locked him in that Potato Bastard's beer cellar."

Spain laughed, "An excellent plan. They can do their thing while we-"

"THEIR THING?" Romano cut him off, throwing his fist towards Spain's stomach in a half-hearted punch. "If that Potato Bastard is alone with my Feli, I'm going to kill him!"

Maybe pointing that out hadn't been Spain's finest moment. "No, no. I'm sure Germany's too busy yelling at Prussia to find Feliciano." Yeah right.

"Oh, you're probably right." Romano shoved the door open, glancing around the lobby of the office. "Where's the pasta?"

Spain opened his mouth to explain, rather sheepishly, that there was no pasta, when an official woman in a pant suit came bustling into the room, looking nervous. "Ah, Antonio and Romano, isn't it?" When she had made their appointment Antonio had mentioned hearing about her from Arthur and Francis; that alone made her slightly worried.

Antonio grinned broadly, reaching out to grip Romano's shoulder to keep him from escaping, "Yes, that's us! I heard all about you from Francis and Arthur."

"A therapist? _The_ therapist! Let me go you bastard!" Romano's shrill shouting faded as Spain propelled him down the hall and into Theresa's office. She remained behind for a moment and couldn't help but wonder about the extra emphasis that the young angry man had put on 'the therapist'. Teresa pursed her lips as she watched their progress down the hall; the beginnings of a migraine started creeping around the backs of her eyes.

Were all of these people ridiculously dysfunctional?

They took their seats and she uncapped her pen, looking over at the two men. "So, what drove the two of you to request an appointment with me?" Teresa asked, after a moment of prolonged silence. Spain glanced over at Romano, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Yes, Antonio?" Romano thought she looked like a vulture, the way she leaned over the desk. Looking for any little bit of their relationship to dig her psycho-analyzing teeth into. What the hell was Spain thinking? They didn't need help.

Spain cleared his throat, earning Romano's full attention. "W-well, I…" He sighed softly, as if trying to muster the courage to say something. "I just, wanted to discuss…"

"Stop stuttering and spit it out, bastard." He may have thought that they didn't need the therapy but he still wanted to know the idiot's absurd reason for dragging him here. Romano fingered the thread hanging off of his jeans, flushing at his lover's sudden serious mood. The Jerk was buying him pasta after this, he owed him big time. Therapy, of all the ridiculous ideas…

"That well… Romano and I… Well he… We..." Spain sighed helplessly; the words just weren't coming out in the right way.

Romano turned his head to glare at Spain, growling. 'That'? That what? Romano's thoughts spun about and clung to the first conclusion he came to. Had he caused Spain problems? Since when? "If you think I'm such a difficulty Antonio then damn, you should've just left me with Turk-er, I mean- Sadiq, when I was a kid." He folded his arms and turned away.

Spain's eyes widened, looking as though he'd been slapped. Not that Romano could see that, with his back to the older man. "No, that's not what I meant at all…"

"Then what did you mean, bastard?" Spain missed the tightness in Romano's voice, the worry, but Teresa noted it. Apparently the Italian didn't hate Antonio as much as she initially thought he did. Then why would he act in such a manner?

"I think," she decided intervention was needed, since Antonio was so confused as to what he had done to make Romano angry at him and looked ready to burst into tears, "that what Antonio was commenting on, well, your verbal abuse."

"Verbal abuse? What are you talking about?" Romano whipped around to glare at Teresa.

Teresa half-expected Antonio to explain, but he looked just as confused as Romano. Albeit, in a less angry way. "Verbal abuse? I was commenting on how different Roma and I are…no, he's perfectly sweet! No abuse at all!" At the mention of how 'sweet' his friend was, Spain slung an arm around Romano's shoulder, ignoring the protests, and pinched an angry-flushed cheek.

Teresa just stared. "Okay, well then…" She probably shouldn't intervene if Antonio didn't complain. But still, she had to try. "I just think that, perhaps how often you refer to Antonio with offensive terms such as 'bastard' or 'jerk' may affect Antonio's emotional…" Teresa trailed off. They weren't listening to her anyways, but it was true. Romano had spat out many offensive terms in such a short time; it was hard for her to believe that Antonio truly hadn't noticed them.

Romano was busy glaring at Spain, his nose about two inches from the Spaniards face. "What do you mean, 'how different we are', moron? Hell, we're so similar America can't tell the difference between our languages!"

"You know, Roma, that's really not saying much."

Teresa felt the urge to intervene, as a good American citizen, but they seemed to be having a breakthrough. "I only meant," Spain continued, "that well, we're so different that I can't imagine you going for someone… like me." The Spaniard seemed anxious as he stared down at his shoes.

"What the hell is your problem? We've been sleeping together for the last century!" Romano jammed a fist in the other man's gut, causing him to wince.

"I… ohh that hurt." Spain rubbed his stomach, "I… I think you mean several years." He tried to correct Romano's slip but ended up with the Italian's fist back in his stomach.

Teresa's eyes widened at the physical contact and she started to push her seat back "I'm sorry but I can't condone suc-" She never got to finish her sentence as Antonio spoke over her. Had they forgotten that she was in the room?

"Don't correct me you idiot! You know what I meant! We've… We've been sleeping together for so long that…" He looked red in the face. "I thought that, it was… we were!"

"I thought that was just a friends-with-benefits situation!" Spain looked up, surprise and confusion written all over his face.

"No! I… I thought it was… Tch, you are such an idiot!" he seemed torn, and surprised.

"Excuse me but I just have to-" The words died on her lips as she stared at the scene in front of her.

Romano moved towards Antonio, closing the remaining few centimeters between the two of them and pressed his lips to Spain's in a bruising kiss. Apparently the Italian thought that actions would speak louder than words. Spain shivered, reaching up to run his hand through Romano's hair. Romano whispered something in Italian Teresa couldn't understand, but she felt a blush on her cheeks. She shouldn't be watching such an intimate moment between the two. It wasn't until Spain started fiddling with the buttons on Romano's shirt that she found her voice.

Teresa seemed to snap to her senses as she practically screeched. "Y- You can't do that here!" she seemed choked by the surprise and embarrassment that she was feeling.

It was as if she'd dumped a bucket of water on them. Romano sprang to his feet, stammering, and Spain cleared his throat, looking shocked but sitting up straighter. A silly little smile slowly spread across his face. "My apologies, senorita. It was most inappropriate for us to engage in such behavior in the presence of a lady such as yourself."

"Are you flirting with her?" Romano interrupted indignantly.

Before Antonio could protest, Teresa heaved a sigh, attempting to calm herself. These two were one hell of an emotional roller coaster. "Out of my office. Now, please?" She couldn't handle the physical abuse and then the sexual acts that had followed. Neither was something she would allow in her office. Yet she was a professional so as they stood Teresa cleared her throat. "When you can conduct yourselves in a proper manner you are welcome to return another day to finish out your session."

Teresa wasn't sure if either of them heard until Antonio cast a glance at her with bright, cheerful eyes, but there was something deeper in his look, almost as if he were grateful (for what she couldn't fathom, all she'd done was throw them out; they'd hardly even talked). As she watched them exit, Romano pulled a cell phone from Spain's pocket, ignoring the other mans attempt to grab his hand. Spain watched Romano fiddle with the device for a moment, before asking, "What are you doing?"

"Changing your status on Facebook to 'In a relationship', bastard."

"Aw, Romano!"

"Chigi! Don't pull my hair in public!"

"In public? Does that mean…" The front door closed behind the couple then, sending the office building back into a blessed silence.

Back at her desk, Teresa glanced down at the notes she'd written. Smiling, she drew a line through the page, adding a short note at the bottom.  
_Well, even though I extended the offer to have them back here I don't think I'll see them again. They're as unstable as everyone else I've seen this week. But somehow they balance each other out. I don't know how it works, but it does. I'm glad at least one couple in this crazy group is happy. _

_

* * *

_

Belarus/Russia is next! In fact I do have half of the chapter done so we're hoping that we can get it out to you wonderful folks within the month, if midterms allow. Haha.

Also we're having a bit of trouble with pairings and what do do next. What would you all like to see? Please note me (don't leave it in a review please!) with what pairings or problems/family issues that you'd like to see us write about.

A shout out to RasalynnLynx for correcting the French in this chapter. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 4, Belarus and Russia

Heyo guys. I am so so sorry about the long wait and I understand completely if you no longer wish to follow this.

I never updated because I sort of forgot. Stuff happened and my life sort of esploded. But, here is the chapter, I hope you enjoy it and can forgive me for not updating sooner.

As always please remember that neither of us are therapists so if anything seems off then forgive us. We're just trying to have fun with this!

* * *

A new day, a new session! Or rather, many old clients and a couple of new ones. In fact, ever since she had worked with Matthew and Alfred their entire extended family and friends seemed to have started contacting her. Teresa tapped her pen on the desk, eager to get the session started. The two people that she was seeing today, had heard of her from Antonio. Someone named Ivan Braginski and the other, his sister, Natalia. It was these new clients that had her nervous. Even over the phone the man had seemed... well odd was the only word to describe how he had sounded.

She leaned back in her chair and eyed the clock, five minutes till the appointment was due to start. _Knock! Knock!_ She smiled slightly, it seemed they were very punctual, and pushed away from the desk, opening the door to her office and peering out at a large man. Her eyes widened as she took in the bulk of his frame. Russia stood there, looking nervous, in a long tan coat and light pink scarf that was amazingly long. Teresa took a step back and nodded. "Err, you are Ivan?" she asked and the man nodded.

"Da, I am." A short pause, "Is…" he peered inside nervously. "Is my sister here?" He asked and when Teresa shook her head he offered her a small smile and stepped inside, past her. "Good. I had hoped I would get to talk to you before she came." He made himself comfortable in one of the chairs and tapped gloved fingers on the arm of the chair. Teresa sat back down behind her desk.

"So, I hear you two are having some problems and that is why you wished to see me?" Ivan's violet eyes flicked to Teresa and she felt a chill travel down her back. There was something about this large man that set her on edge, a hidden danger lurked. She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, attempting to hide her nerves. How long had she been working this job? Almost four years now, she should be able to mask her feelings for goodness sake.

"Well yes. We've been having problems for many years now. She has an... attraction to me. An obsession if you will. I've heard that you've helped others and I wished to give it a try." He smiled dangerously at her. "You will help me, da?" He asked his voice was low and menacing. Teresa shifted again and made a couple of notes, wording her answer in her head before looking up to the man.

"I will do my best to help you and your sister Ivan." She kept her voice even and calm, her eyes flickering over his face.

Ivan nodded once. "Good." He brightened, relaxing into his chair. A childish smile appeared on his face. "I expect to see results after our session then." Was that a threatening tone in his voice?

"It sometimes takes several sessions to see an improvement, I hope you understand this." Teresa spoke evenly, meeting his large child like eyes. Don't aggravate him. The note was added to the paper in front of her.

"Oh." He frowned then, thinking. "But there will be improvement, da?"

"If both parties are willing to work on the problem then yes, there will certainly be improvement in the relationship or situation." Teresa offered. Making a small mental note that her first impression over the phone had been right, something was off. One moment Ivan seemed kind and gentle but the next he seemed to be on edge, scary and threatening. Yet he had a childlike quality to him-

A knock on the door interrupted Teresa's thoughts. "Excuse me a moment." Russia nodded, flicking his eyes to the door as Teresa stood. A young woman with platinum blond hair stood on the other side; a lovely blue and white dress falling just to her knees. Teresa looked her over and briefly met the young girls dark blue gaze. "Hello, you must be Natalia." Teresa took a step back and the woman frowned at her.

As Belarus stepped into the room, she spotted Ivan and the small frown turned into a smile. "Brother~!" It was as if Teresa no longer existed, the young woman took a couple of steps towards the hulking man, who seemed to shift slightly away. Teresa moved to her desk and it was that movement that drew Natalia's attention to the woman. Her smile turned into a scowl, menacing and angry. "You were alone in this room with my brother!" It was not a question, but a statement. A statement that held, within its depths, anger and accusation.

"Well, yes Natalia. Your brother came early and wished to talk to me. Please sit down and we can get started." Teresa turned to move a set of documents off her desk and take her own seat. With her back turned she did not see Natalia pull a long, intimidating knife from within the folds of her dress. It glinted in the artificial light of the office.

"You were alone with my brother!" Teresa's hair stood on end at the hiss, she froze, papers in hand and behind her she heard Ivan shift. "Natalia. Put it away now. Right… Right now."

Teresa turned in time to see the flash of silver disappear behind Natalia's back. Dark blue eyes glowered at her, hints of unspoken promises that had Teresa clearing her throat as hurriedly set aside the papers and sat down. These two gave off auras of danger. Teresa had half a mind to run out the door and never look back. The woman had never experienced feelings such as these. They gripped her so tightly, warning signals that urged her to remove herself from the situation. Yes, she'd worked with dangerous clients but none of those people had inspired such feelings of unease in her. Her fingers twitched towards the drawer to her left, where she kept a can of pepper spray. "Natalia, would you please take a seat?" her voice was soft and sweet.

"Yes... Natalia, please, sit." Ivan patted the chair beside him, intent on keeping his sister in check. She might make him uneasy but he loved her all the same and didn't wish to see her get in trouble.

"Ahem. Well." Teresa started as Natalia sat down beside her brother. She noted that the young girl shifted the chair she was in so that it was arm to arm with Ivan's. She also noted the way that Ivan leaned away from his sister. It was a slight movement on his part but it was there. Interesting...

"You were alone with my brother. What did you do?" Natalia hissed. The utter loathing in the young woman's voice was surprising to Teresa and she allowed a slight frown to furrow her brow.

Ivan spoke before she could formulate a reply. "We did nothing sister, please, do not make such conclusions."

"What do you expect me to think? You are in here, alone with another woman." Belarus attached herself to Russia's arm and clung there, throwing a venomous look in Teresa's direction. This time it was Teresa intervening before Ivan could respond.

"We didn't do anything except talk Natalia." The feeling that that the young girl was the jealous type was strong. Those hard blue eyes and that disapproving frown; it was hard to stop the shiver that ran down her spine. "Now that you're here, we can all talk together. I'll stay over here on this side of the desk and you can stay there beside your brother. Does that sound alright with you?" Teresa asked and Natalia thought about it before nodding.

"I guess it's alright, now that I'm here." She shifted, and adjusted her grip on Russia's arm.

"So." Teresa started. "I see you are very attached to your brother Natalia."

"I love my brother." A cold, calculating stare followed the words.

Russia reached over and gave his sister a pat on the arm; although he looked uncomfortable. "Sister, it is alright. This lady is here to help us."

"Help us with what?" The words came quickly, laced with suspicion. "We do not need help at all. The only help I need is in convincing you to marry me."

Marry him? Teresa worked hard not to wrinkle her brow. "Excuse me, but you are related aren't you?" Or had she misunderstood?

"Hmm? Oh da. Natalia is my sister you see." He patted her arm again and smiled a soft smile. He did love her, Teresa noted and offered her own small smile.

"I think I see the problem here." Teresa murmured to herself.

"There is no problem though! Brother and I will get married and be strong together!"

"Ah… Natalia." Russia muttered, patting her arm for a third time. "Let the lady speak, please listen to her."

Natalia seemed to think about his words. "If that is what you'd like for me to do Brother."

It was surprising, how easily the young woman in front of her listened to her brother. "Ok, well Natalia you and Ivan are related by blood, so it's not very proper of you to marry him, you see." Teresa kept her hands folded on her desk as she explained.

"No. I don't see." There was a sneer in her voice. "I love my brother and that's what counts. What's it to you, anyway, if I love him or not? He will be mine and only mine! Marriage~ We will-

"Ah. Sister," Russia finally extracted his arm as he interrupted her sentence and turned to her, holding his hands up. "Please, I wish to have a little space."

"What space? Once we become one there will be no space between us!" The look in her eyes was of pure adoration, a sparkle of delight. Teresa's eyes widened ever so slightly; this woman was completely obsessed, slightly on edge and creepy in all the wrong ways. She latched onto Russia's arm again, still staring up at him with glittering eyes.

"Ahem, Natalia?" The young girl's gaze of adoration turned to a sharp glare. "Would you please let go of your brother's arm, just for a moment, and speak with me?" Her voice was calm and gentle.

"Please sister?" Russia was ridged in his chair. Belarus narrowed her eyes and, only after Russia had asked her once more, did she finally slide her hands away from his arm. She sat there in the chair in an almost dainty fashion, placing her folded hands in her lap.

"I have nothing to speak with you about." This was directed at Teresa.

"Well, I think you do. Your brother."

"He is _my_ brother."

"Yes, you love him very much." Belarus' expression softened slightly.

"I do love him, very much. I want to make him happy, make him proud and, soon, marry him."

"Marriage aside Natalia, you want Ivan to be happy in his life?"

"Yes, I want him to be happy…"

"That's good; it means you care about your brother very much." Teresa looked to Ivan and gave him a small smile. Belarus' gaze narrowed and her fingers twitched, as though she wished to grab something. Ivan glanced in the direction of his sister. "Ivan, what is one thing that would make you happy in your life?" Teresa asked the man in a soft voice.

He responded after only a brief hesitation. "I want to meet other people and make some friends," Then he turned to Natalia and spoke directly to her "Which is hard to do when you are hanging on to me all of the time, dearest sister." Ivan displayed nervousness as he spoke. He was acting as though he were tiptoeing around an angry wild animal.

"But Brother! You don't _need_ new people. You have me." Her voice started strong and ended in a soft whisper that had Teresa's hair standing on end.

"But he wants to make friends." Teresa pressed, watching as Natalia's face turned to one of confusion. "Ivan wants to meet other people and become friends with them. That is what would make him happy." Teresa turned her calm gaze onto Ivan, who was still sitting uncomfortably in the chair.

"But, he has _me_. He needs no others!" She insisted desperately, as she clawed at Russia's arm, finally latching on to him again.

Teresa leaned forward. "Natalia, perhaps it isn't what he needs, but what he wants." She pointed this out as gently as she could.

Natalia eased her grip and seemed to think about the therapists words. "Well…"

"Da. It is what I _want_ sister. Please, give me a chance to make acquaintances."

"Well…" The word was repeated, slower this time, unsure, wavering.

"It might be a good idea for you both to try and make friends."

Ivan was nodding slowly. "I would very much like that. This is a wonderful idea sister! Even you could make a new friend or… something." To be truthful, inwardly he was hoping that Natalia might just transfer her obsession over to someone else.

"I would still get to see my brother, and be with him, near him?" She asked, fingers tightening around Russia's coat sleeve.

"Well, yes, of course. But you should make an effort to meet _new_ people." Teresa pushed and Belarus's brow furrowed. "Try it out for, say a month or so, Natalia. And after that time period passes, why don't we get back together and have another session to see what you think. Ivan, do you agree?"

"Da! Of course I do." He was leaning forward, violet eyes glittering. "I very much agree with your words. Natalia, please understand that this is what would make me happy." He turned to look at his sister, who released his arm slowly, as if surprised by the sudden display of emotion.

"I… Well." She paused and frowned. "If… it makes brother happy then I will do it. But for one month only." In Russia's eyes she saw joy, which confused her. Belarus was still grasping at the idea that others would make her brother happy. But… She wanted him to be happy. If she went along with this idea then he would see that she was the only one that could make him happy. She settled back into her chair a small smile tugging at her lips. Yes, this would reinforce the fact that only she could put joy into her brother's life. So it would be…

Russia stood up, straightening out his tan coat. "I thank you, for helping. A month from now I will see you again."

"As will I." Natalia said the words quickly as she jumped from her seat. The statement was directed at Teresa, who could read the warning within the young woman's words and gaze. Teresa repressed a sigh, realizing then that she would not get many chances to speak to Ivan alone.

Teresa stood and nodded. "I look forward to seeing both of you." Despite her turning stomach the therapist smiled and walked to the door, opening it for the pair of them. "You have a good day now. I will call in two weeks time to see how you are both doing and to schedule a follow up appointment." As soon as they left her office Teresa gently closed the door and let herself sink into her seat. "Oh man." she whispered, running her hands over her face with a sigh. A distinct sense of foreboding washed over her.

* * *

I've had this chapter done for a long while, but never uploaded because I wasn't certain if it was up to par... But I finally just threw my hands up and decided to stop worrying over it.

A huge thanks to **Chigi Master** for messaging me with pairing idea's. It helped Squishingbananas and I put our thoughts (and chapters!) in order. Currently the next BelRus chapter is in the works as well as an England/Sealand chapter. Squishingbananas will be working on a America/England chapter and possibly a Germany/Italy chapter.


End file.
